


I Knew You Once

by oh_semai



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: I knew you once, M/M, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, based on a dodie song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 03:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14010942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_semai/pseuds/oh_semai
Summary: "Phil was no stranger to loss. The best way to cope, he found, was to think of happy memories with them. Dan was a constant in his life, his comfort. Suddenly the nine years they spent together seems wasted. "Or a phanfiction in which Phil struggles to cope after loosing Dan.~~~WARNING: mentions of suicide and major character death





	I Knew You Once

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by I Knew You Once by dodie. It makes me cry every time I recommend that you listen to it. I had the lyrics in certain places but I took it out and I can't be bothered to put it back because I have no idea where they were in the first place. So this isn't much of a song fic.
> 
> Enjoy, it's my first phanfic and fanfiction.
> 
> (This is the song link btw):  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huCSle_6Nyg

It’s funny how the weather can represent your mood. It was a sunny winter day but the atmosphere was cold and the sunlight harsh on your skin - as if it wants to burn through. He should have been having lunch now but instead he had made plans to discover the new area more. Besides, he didn’t want to have lunch; his appetite has been frighteningly unsteady for weeks now.

The bus ride was silent. It was better that way. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. At midday the London traffic was smooth and the people scarce. One thing that he valued was that nobody talked to each other on London Transport, something which he hadn’t appreciated until now; when he needed it the most. It gave him a chance to reflect on everything. Knowing him was the best part of him life and now he’s-

Phil can’t fully comprehend it. How can someone so important in your life just go? He can’t help but think he was at fault here. He was trying his hardest; he was trying to comfort him even though he didn’t know how. He was trying to be as supportive as he could. He was trying to be there for him but maybe it wasn’t enough. Maybe he didn’t do it right. Phil was no stranger to loss. The best way to cope, he found, was to think of happy memories with them. Dan was a constant in his life, his comfort. Suddenly the nine years they spent together seems wasted. Phil has to remind himself of all their success: Radio Show with the BBC; Published two books; TATINOF UK, USA and Australia and also their little successes. They’re secret relationship which everyone knew but didn’t actually know. He needed to focus on those countless moments of them cuddling on the sofa watching an episode of Breaking Bad, hiking trips in the Isle of Man, romantic dinners and those lazy Sundays where nothing was ever done and it was okay.

Phil was remembering his face; the cute dimples, the freckles that dotted his body with no correlation (almost like a complex constellation, he always thought to himself), those wild curls that seemed to take their own form of life as the days rolled by. Dan, with the loudest laugh and the most flawless skin and chubby checks that he could cup in his hands. Dan with the eyes that crinkled with delight and the softest voice that would calm him and speak sweet, soothing words to everyone around him (or the worst swear words during an intense game of Crash Bandicoot). Dan with the most inviting arms that would spoon and poke and push and play with him whenever he had the chance. Dan with the most beautiful eyes, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

Every time he tried to focus on Dan however, his memory started to fade. Phil knew that he wouldn’t be forgetting it completely any time soon though. Phil had enough pictures to last him a lifetime, one of his favourite hobbies was taking pictures of Dan, something he had discovered earlier on in their relationship. Despite all of this it didn’t feel like enough. No matter how many photos there are of precious little moments and mini-photo-shoots Phil wouldn’t be satisfied. He wanted Dan; was that too much to ask for? A photo can encapsulate a memory but it’s much better to appreciate it in real life.

He slowly reached into his pocket and opened his wallet. It had pictures of them from around the time when they first met all the way to recent years. There was one particular Polaroid photo of him and Dan making their best derp faces (which were pretty spectacular). A small smile spread on his face and tears silently slipped down his face. It felt agonisingly slow but Phil didn’t have the heart to wipe them off. For once he wasn’t going to hide how he felt because fuck it, he didn’t have to put on a fake smile all the time. He was going to show how he actually felt - which was shit.

There was a dull aching in his stomach. It was a strange feeling being hungry now, Phil can’t remember the last time he ate, or slept, or anything in fact. He tried to keep himself preoccupied with YouTube and editing his half-hearted attempts at videos but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Dan was always there helping him out or just watching from the side. Nowadays Phil wouldn’t even wake up until late in the afternoon and by then it was too late for him to do anything so he would drown himself in a weighted blanket and watch Netflix until he fell asleep. The days had been going by like light trying to escape a moth. Time had gone and taken away the joy of his life – which Phil wasn’t pleased with – and now time will do the same.

The bus jolting brought him back to the real, dreary world. The sun in the muted grey sky was burning harsher now that the endless rows of old trees had ceased to exist. The dirty windows didn’t help much either. The sudden thought that reoccurred sometimes popped up in his pounding brain again. He wasn’t really there. There meaning here. Phil and the present weren’t really aligned, looking through his glasses never felt so much more symbolical. He was looking through a lens designed for him to see everything that someone else wanted to see; the ideal version of the world. You start to lose your sanity when you see the truth through the lens. It’s like zooming in on a so-called masterpiece only to see all the mistakes and atrocities that no one else does – or maybe they didn’t bother to think about it – or maybe it was accepted because in the end the mistakes are what makes the painting stand out from the others. It was a horrible gift to see but at least he wasn’t blind. Ignorance is bliss but at what cost? Was it better to know or not to? Either ways were pretty shit, Phil concluded.

He usually was a pretty optimistic person but he couldn’t help but think of all the bad: the horrible fights and the painful silences, the times when Dan was having a bad depressive episode and neither of them knew how to cope. It was harder when Phil didn’t understand and Dan shut him out unintentionally. They eventually got through it together but it did take some time. He tried to help others so much that he forgot about himself. Of course, he said that it was fine and that he knew how to look after himself well but Phil was human too and there were times where Phil can’t do it either. He only learnt that when he needed someone to help him the most. Dan was there. When he was under too much stress or having a bad day, Dan made sure that Phil was the top priority. Phil remembers (on several occasions) him saying: “You took care of me, right? Now it’s my turn.” Phil chuckled. Dan didn’t really get that the only thing Phil needed was him. He didn’t ask for anything else, well, apart from his cereal, but even then he never really asked for that.

Just thinking about Dan made it unbearable to even exist without the knowledge that he was a call or a text away. Everyone knew that they were inseparable. They could function without each other they still preferred the significant others’ company and despite all their years they still had conversations about the most random of thoughts and the deepest of secrets and neither were judgmental of one another. Dan was one of those people that he felt comfortable with to be his weird and wacky self. It helped too that Dan was also equally weird. They had the type of chemistry that just couldn’t be faked and that - surprisingly - is what made them successful. Their ideas bounced of each other easily and together they were unstoppable; they were taking the world by storm.

Phil exhaled a long and shaky breath, the coldness seeping in through the cracks of the broken bus. He felt so vulnerable even though he was now the only passenger. If anyone were to ask him a question like ‘Are you okay?’ then he would probably break-down and crumble right then and there. There was a closed door that opened up repressed emotions that Phil couldn’t keep anymore. But no one was there to open it, not anymore since Phil had shut himself entirely from the world. He didn’t mean to be so secretive; he wanted to talk to anyone who would listen but his instincts or rather, his thoughts, told him to rethink the decision that he was going to make.

The bus was flying over a bridge now, dashing for safety on the other side. The River Thames matched the murky atmosphere in the bleak London afternoon. Rain clouds were beginning to cluster and the wind blowing the leaves into the air like crumbling confetti. A thought popped into his head: isn’t water nice? You could float, you could swim, you could sink; you could die. The water would never stop, it won’t slow down until the wind stops blowing and the stream stops having the need to run for any longer.

He caught his reflection in the window splattered with heavy rain and reeled in disgust; his skin was sallow, his chin had stubble, his eyes puffy and his hair had lost its signature night black colour that made him stand out. Phil had lost some weight since he had last seen himself in the mirror. Simply clad in an unusually loose Topman t-shirt and black baggy skinny jeans it slowly dawned on Phil how much weight he had lost. The features of his face had grown wild and defining (and not in a good way). No matter where he looked he couldn’t stop turning back to the window to see what he had become.

“What happened to me?” He murmured under his breathe.

Phil was an entirely different person.

He hadn’t completely forgotten his motives, it was at the back of his mind when he was reflecting on his life and carefully thinking things through. Phil knew the decision he was going to make wasn’t good but the urge to do it had won him over on that particular day, and he felt motivated enough to carry through with it. He had also purposefully left his phone behind so he had no way of checking where he was. Phil subsided into his thin raincoat and twitched his fingers with agitation. He wasn’t cold but his hands were dry and shaking. Whilst pulling up the sleeves with the inconvenient Velcro he noticed that a smooth piece of paper fell out with a messy scrawl that could only be read by him. It had been resting there pretty comfortably until that moment. Phil wanted this, right? He was so fucking sick of everything that he was better off dead. Thoughts like these wouldn’t usually trouble him before except this time Phil couldn’t get the thought to go away. It was always there- lurking and looming above his head. It felt like it would respond with 10 self-depreciative voices telling him the same thing but in altered words.

The paper was laminated badly but enough to keep it safe from soaking wet. It all felt spontaneous and yet so planned out. He couldn’t see any other way. Staring out the window he couldn’t imagine where his life would drag him to next. Even the thought of another week doing anything made him feel queasy. How do people do it? How did Dan do it? What was the point of living if it drained him to the point of death? There wasn’t any point. Despite his all black clothing Dan really was the brightest thing in Phil’s life.

The bus had slowed down and he quietly cursed in annoyance. He was so lost in his thoughts that the bus driver got out of his seat and told him to get out. Phil forgot his stop and had no idea where he was. Phil didn’t altogether trust himself to say anything so he apologetically nodded and he shuffled hastily through the front door and headed to the massive Curry’s and PC world, one of the closest stores nearby. If he was to go, he could at least tweet one last goodbye.

\---

Walking was much better than staying on the bus; it gave him a chance to think. In theory, Phil knew that he could go see a therapist or talk to a friend. In stupidity and heartbreak he screamed to the one’s he loved that he didn’t need help and locked himself in his room suffering quietly. It was all he could do, he told himself again and again but living in that shoebox told him that if he stayed there any longer the walls would close in on him. Or more likely, he would give up before they did. Before Dan had gone he wouldn’t have had these thoughts but now that he did it was harder to shut them out.

Sometimes Phil felt like he couldn’t have problems. There were other people who suffered more than him and it was his job to look after them. Of course, Phil knew that it was silly, but he couldn’t shake the thought that it was true. There were people who would actively harm or try and kill themselves and no one cares for them but if Phil did it then it would be a trending hash tag on twitter. Even if it was would anyone actually care, or was it because Dan is his best friend? It didn’t really bother Phil about the subscriber difference but it did bother him when he didn’t feel as loved. His appearance put people of, babies would normally cry, teens prefer Dan and adults think he looks like an alien. He didn’t blame. Phil knew he was ugly as fuck and it was too late to have a glow-up. Dan was so much prettier than him. Why did Dan ever settle for him? Phil was just plain Phil, nothing amazing about him. He tried his best but no one seemed to care. It wasn’t enough. Lucky for Phil he was done with entertaining people. His end was soon anyways.

A loud honk from the right off him didn’t even startle him. He carried on dragging his feet to the sheltered technology store as if he was programmed to do so. Soon he would be the attraction. If humanity taught him anything, it’s that Phil the pale alien would be a hit somewhere.

He had almost bumped into a person with the shabbiest clothing, a shaggy beard and a pack of cigarettes and struggling to light one with a green lighter. What was their life story? How did they get to where they were? We’re they kicked out of their own home? Did they hate themselves too? Did they cut themselves? Did anyone care? No matter how hard he tired Phil struggled to show sympathy. He did care but showing it proved too much for Phil. Now that Dan was gone all the love and life that he possessed had ceased to exist. He was just a hollow shell carrying out mundane tasks that society told him to do. In a way, he was okay with that, surprisingly. He told himself that it was okay and that he was okay for the sake of him and everyone else. He wasn’t really but he kept on saying that; repeating it like a mantra until all he knew was that he was fine and he was okay. With each step he took towards the main entrance he repeated these words in his head. His feet collided with the already battered pavement like a blacksmith working on steel.

The automatic doors opened and with it a gust of warm manufactured air hit him and enveloped him with cheap sales and high-tech equipment. It was welcoming and just what Phil needed. He decided to avoid the canon camera section as he didn’t want to be reminded of his now failed career. Instead, he looks at the nearest phone and decides to use the Samsung.

The app twitter is already there. Should he be doing this? Did he have to torment other people? Did he even have to say goodbye? Phil had been so adamant before but the doubts flooded his mind and made him stop in his tracks and rethink what he was doing. Was he supposed to feel guilty about it? He had to admit that he didn’t. Not really. But a tweet just seemed so unnecessary. He didn’t feel guilty about leaving; he felt guilty about not saying goodbye. Did it have to be long and heartfelt or did he just have to write something like I’m leaving for a bit?

Maybe he was thinking this through too much. Maybe it had to be short but sincere. Phil immediately ruled against this. Phil did like to be truthful with his audience but he didn’t feel ready to tell the world that he was struggling. He was an almost middle-aged white millionaire, what problems could he have? Aside from being gay of course and losing his best friend and partner because they killed themself.

Was he being overdramatic? He felt like he was copying Dan, and everyone else who actually had problems. Phil couldn’t tell if he was but he didn’t care. He knew he wanted this. And with a small dose of motivation which lately he had been lacking severely, he logged onto his twitter and wrote the following message:

 ~~I’m going out~~ No, that sounded too casual, Phil thought.

 ~~I’m popping into hell for a bit to see Dan~~ that’s a bit too much, Phil thought.

 ~~BRB just slowly dying~~ No, that’s too crude, Phil thought.

Sorry, I’m leaving now

Phil looked at the half-finished sentence. It was enough, he thought.

There was a sad undertone to the whole situation that Phil had been so used to recently. It was sad and bitter sweet. He struggled to understand why he didn’t feel it, or notice it before. It was always there but he was too lost in the moment feeling happy or with his friends or too busy to take some time and feel it. Was this really worth it? His finger hovered over the tweet button. Even now he was still having doubts. He had been so sure that this was the right thing to do. Phil couldn’t help but feel a little bit of guilt. There were still some dedicated fans out there and he would hate to torment the people who care. But every day was a consistent torture to him and it was too much to deal with.

Instead he decided to find out the directions to the nearest bridge – which was one that he had already passed – and sweat nervously overthinking everything. Without trying to spiral (Phil being Phil obviously failed) he pressed the tweet button and quickly logged off. The horrible feeling of Paranoia had been uncomfortably settling on him for some time. Phil was all too aware that he looked incredibly suspicious in all black. He was a sort-of public figure and someone seeing him in this state isn’t what he wanted. He certainly didn’t want any photos of him on the internet. That would be a nightmare to get rid of.

If there was any way for him to get his hoddie to cover his head anymore he would. He did his best but then again his best wasn’t working. Nevertheless, Phil’s logic told him that if he walked quickly enough he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

The people were filling up the streets in a steady pace so Phil took the black cab that was conveniently parked a few feet away from him. The atmosphere around him had now changed. It went dark as the driver speeded down the empty road. Phil’s mind was blank. He felt so numb and hollow. He took out a picture of him and Dan. God, he missed him so much. Why wasn’t he here? Why did he have to do it? All Phil wanted; all he needed was for Dan to be there with him, to exist. But maybe that was too much for him, like it’s too much for Phil right now. Life was all a chain reaction of the same mistakes and Phil couldn’t help but be part of the system.

The picture was one from a time when they went on holiday. The two of them were dancing together (although it looked more like they were hugging in the middle of the dance floor). Phil’s arms were slung over Dan’s neck, hands caressing his hair lovingly. Looking at the picture sparked similar memories and only made him miss him more. He thought of Dan’s precious face cupped in his unclean hands, and how those same hands would be reaching for the railing of the bridge so that he could jump off.

Carefully, he put the picture back in his wallet and looked at the other various photos that he had kept. Most were with Dan and his family. How would his family react if he had killed himself? They probably wouldn’t care, it had been some time since they had last called him and any relationship that he had with them had vanished after Dan. Would any of his friends care? What about his fans? They would be too busy mourning Dan’s death that they probably wouldn’t even notice that he’s dead.

The vehicle pulled over and Phil gave the driver a £20 note, thanked her, and left. He continued on trudging to his final destination. He kept to one side of the bridge – which was very unstable, he could bounce on it like a trampoline – and touched the side. Phil didn’t know when to stop walking, but kept on going when he checked if anybody, or at least anyone who knew him, was looking. The bridge was made of rock with moss splattered on to it like sprinkles on a birthday cake. He squinted for a bit as the sun had suddenly started to shine again, and he stopped. He placed his hands firmly and securely lifted himself and sat on the side of the bridge.

Phil looked down at the drop. Shit, he mumbled under his breath, it was a big drop. Fear crept across his chest as well as adrenaline. He ran his hands through his hair and took deep breathes. His Paranoia entombed him like a loving phantom.

What was the point?

Why wasn’t Dan here?

Phil loved Dan. They love they held and the love they had spurned was beautiful whilst it lasted. It was unfortunate that it was cut of short. Phil still loves Dan. It hasn’t grown cold, only taciturn.

And with that all his emotions that had fermented in him had been released: Phil cried his heart out, he needed saving; he needed help. It was like a wine bottle being uncorked. It was Phil’s last cry for help. But the question is:

Did anyone hear?

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr!! @oh-semai


End file.
